All the Way and All the Way Back
by Mizvoy
Summary: All the Way: You can't always get what you want, J and C friendship. All the Way Back: Or can you? J/C Post-Endgame
1. All the Way

Written for the 2008 VAMB Fall Ficlet exchange with the first sentence provided; it may not be a "happy" ending, but it's as happy as I could make it under the circumstances! This story assumes that J/C started an affair on New Earth and continued it, for awhile, upon their return to Voyager.

Summary: "You can't always get what you want." J and C friendship.

**All the Way**

By mizvoy

_**During Season 4 (soon after "The Killing Game")**_

"Do you know how far this is supposed to go?"

"The recalibrations?" Todd Mulcahey gave Karel Jor a sympathetic smile. "All the way, of course."

Voyager hung motionless inside a nebula as engineer teams upgraded the antimatter injectors and made dozens of other essential repairs. These two were huddled inside a freezing Jeffries tube on Deck Eleven, working in the light of a battery-powered lantern. Together, they pulled another antimatter injector from its housing and began to disassemble it.

"We're actually upgrading every single injector?"

"Yeah. It's a miracle we've made it this long without replacing the nozzles, and when Torres found some that met our specs at the last trading post, I was sure we'd be working our tails off to get them installed as soon as possible."

They finished replacing the nozzle, ran a quick diagnostic, and slid the injector back into place when Jor groaned. "Speaking of tails, Todd, my back is killing me."

"Mine, too." He sat up and twisted around to stretch his muscles. "We're supposed to keep going until the end of our shift, but I guess we could sit up straight for a few minutes."

"Good." Jor stretched her back, took a long pull from the water pouch, and then handed it to Mulcahey. "All this work will improve engine efficiency by how much?"

"Just under two percent."

"That's all?"

"It'll also keep the injectors from sticking so often," he comforted her. "It's not just speed. The run-in with the Hirogen put a strain on the whole ship, and we've got to make changes while we can."

"And who decided that two percent was worth the work?"

"Torres. And the captain, of course."

"All-the-way Janeway," Jor groused, leaning back against the hatch that led to a Jeffries tube junction. "I think we were better off when Janeway and B'Elanna were at odds with each other. We didn't have to work as hard."

"I think you're right." He laughed, giving her a sideways look. "All-the-way Janeway?"

"All-the-way Starfleet, all-the-way to the Alpha Quadrant, all-the-way coffee." Jor paused, winked, and lowered her voice. "All-the-way with Chakotay."

Mulcahey blinked in surprise. "I'm not so sure about that last one, Karel."

"I'm pretty sure they had an affair on that planet a couple of years back. Chakotay showed all the usual signs of involvement when we rescued them."

"The planet where we left them for four months?" Mulcahey frowned. "Maybe then, but not lately. At least, not since Seven of Nine arrived."

"The captain's pet Borg." Jor sighed. "We Maquis fought hard to buck Starfleet rules, but Seven is really putting up a struggle."

"She's basically a rebellious teenager. That's why Janeway spends so much time with her."

"And that's why she doesn't spend as much time with Chakotay."

"Maybe she's using Seven to get some distance from him."

"If so, then she's a fool. They're perfect for each other, and out here, they should take whatever comfort they can find."

Mulcahey shook his head. "Starfleet captains don't get involved with their subordinates."

"He was a captain, too," Jor argued. "Some of the Maquis wondered, at first, which captain would end up in command of Voyager."

"Then they underestimated Janeway. She was born to captain this ship. All-the-way Voyager, no matter how much it costs her personally."

"Too bad. I feel sorry for both of them."

They were quiet for a few minutes, taking one last turn drinking water, and then Mulcahey picked up his tool kit.

"We might as well move on down to the next injector."

"If you say so, Ensign."

In the junction outside the hatchway, Chakotay stood stock still. He'd been checking on the status of the repairs, climbing up the ladder that gave access to injector control, when he'd heard voices in the Jeffrey's tube. He'd stopped to check on their progress when he realized that he and the captain were the subject of their conversation. He'd been too embarrassed to interrupt them and too curious to stop listening.

As the voices became muffled and indistinct, he remained immobile, regretting that he hadn't just ignored them and moved on. He stared at the toes of his boots, his shoulders slumped, as he struggled to keep his heart from breaking.

"All-the-way Janeway," he muttered, leaning his forearm against the top of the hatch and resting his head on his wrist. He was mortified that some of the crew had detected the truth about his affair with the captain on New Earth, because he'd been sure that they had been successful in hiding it. He didn't want anyone's pity for what had happened, and he knew the captain didn't, either.

When they'd heard Tuvok's voice announcing Voyager's return, they'd both known that the odds were against their affair surviving once they'd returned to the ship. They'd tried to keep the relationship alive. She'd been skeptical, but he'd insisted that they try. And they'd failed. Miserably.

Looking back on it, he grudgingly acknowledged that it was impossible for either of them to keep the professional and private parts of their lives from overlapping, not on a ship that consumed every moment of their existence. They were always the captain and first officer, on duty and off, which meant that little disagreements that started on the bridge inevitably surfaced again in their quarters later on, and little irritations that began when they were alone popped up again while they were at work. They'd barely managed to keep the affair going when their disagreement over Janeway's alliance with the Borg had put the finishing touches on whatever remained.

After Seven of Nine joined the crew, everything between them changed.

_**Eight months earlier**_

_Chakotay arrived at Janeway's door for their first weekly "working dinner" since Kes's spectacular departure, only to find that she wasn't there. He'd assumed that they would revert to their former habits once the dust settled and kicked himself for not reminding her of the meal earlier in the day. He had a feeling that she would use the female drone's need for advice and reassurance as a reason to distance herself from him, and he was determined to prevent that from happening. _

_He tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay to Janeway." _

"_Janeway here," she replied, the hollow echo in her voice telling him that she was, in fact, with Seven of Nine in Cargo Bay 2. "What do you need?" _

"_Do I have the wrong night?" _

"_Wrong night?" There was a long pause. "For what?"_

"_For our weekly dinner." _

"_Oh, for dinner!" She sighed and lowered her voice. "I've been so preoccupied that I forgot all about it, Chakotay. I'm sorry." _

"_I don't mind peanut butter and jelly if you don't. It's one of your best meals." _

_She didn't laugh, and his fears increased. "The truth is that tonight isn't good. Seven and I are working through some issues, and I think we're about to reach an understanding." _

"_A nightcap then. When you're through." He could tell that she wanted to refuse, and so he preempted her. "We need to talk." _

"_All right. I'll stop by your quarters when I finish here." _

"_Stop by no matter how late you stay. I'll wait up." _

_He was too nervous to eat, so he used the free time to straighten up his quarters and catch up on some reports that had been put aside during their fight with Species 8472 inside fluidic space. When he finished the last report, he realized that she was going to be very late, indeed. He replicated two egg salad sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade, just in case she'd skipped dinner again, and tried to spend a few minutes meditating before she arrived. _

_It was just after midnight when an exhausted and irritable Kathryn Janeway appeared at his door. _

"_Can this wait until sometime tomorrow?" she asked as she stepped into the room. "I'm frazzled from arguing with Seven of Nine." _

"_You need to eat something," he insisted, leading her toward the dining table. "Have a sandwich. Relax and talk to me. I won't keep you long." _

_Her eyes widened in appreciation. "Maybe I can stay long enough to eat a sandwich." _

_Later, he realized that he should have kept the conversation light. Midnight was no time to confront her about a delicate emotional issue, but he had been too impatient and worried to delay the discussion any longer. She was rattled over Kes's departure and challenged by Seven's defiance, and yet, when she'd just finished half of her sandwich and was reaching for the rest, he blurted out, "I'll be glad when the two of us get back to normal." _

_Janeway paused and then snatched her hand back. Her eyes were cold as she glared at him. "Normal?"_

"_You know," he swallowed hard, his palms clammy at the dangerous tone in her voice. "Back the way we were before the Borg. Weekly dinners. Daily private meetings. The occasional night—"_

"_No." She stood up and went to the replicator, standing in front of it as if she were unsure of what she wanted. Then she shrugged and said again, "No." _

"_If you want to order coffee, Kathryn, it's okay if you use my rations." _

"_We can't always have what we want." She turned to face him, her arms crossed and her chin held high. "But we both know that." _

"_I know it's late, but you can have decaf." _

_She made a face and then shook her head. "I'm not talking about coffee, and you know it." _

_He sighed, regretting that he'd brought this up. "We've managed." _

"_Barely." _

"_Is this about my breaking the alliance with the Borg? Because, I thought we'd settled that." _

"_We have. I know you did what you thought was right. You were in command, after all." _

_He took a deep breath in relief. "Then is it about the drone?"_

"_It's about me." She sat down at the table again, slumping slightly as she drew patterns on the tabletop with the condensation from her glass. "It's my fault, and I'm truly sorry." _

"_It's too late at night for a serious discussion," he answered, his stomach flipping over with dread. "We'll talk this out after a good night's sleep." _

"_I've been putting this off for weeks, Chakotay. Now that we've started, let's just finish it." _

"_Finish what?" He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he made a last, desperate attempt to change the subject. "The sandwich?"_

" _This 'thing' between us." She was almost trembling, her nerves stretched thin. She was deadly serious, and any further attempt at levity would be unwelcome. "I had my doubts from the first, if you remember. I told you that I don't know how to do anything half way and that the ship would have to come first." _

"_I remember. It hasn't always been easy, but there have been some good times." _

"_Yes, there have been, especially on New Earth, but every day since we returned to the ship has been more difficult than the day before." She stared at him, waiting for a reply. "I won't get angry if you agree." _

_He took a moment as he recalled their many arguments, realizing that they did outnumber the good times and that they had been occurring with increasing frequency. "I admit that it's been more … complicated than I expected it to be, but I'm willing to keep trying." _

"_I'm not." She took a shaky breath. "I have no choice but to be captain—all the way, every day—but I have a choice about the other stresses in my life, and when those choices threaten my equilibrium and cloud my clarity, I have to make changes." _

"_Is that all I am to you?" he demanded, his temper flaring. "A source of stress?" _

"_Of course not. As my first officer, you're a blessing every day—I need you to challenge me and keep me focused on the important issues. The problem is us—we're not good at combining our personal and professional lives." She crossed her arms on the table and leaned toward him. "It's become a serious obstacle for me, Chakotay." _

"_I make few demands on your time, and I never complain when you put work first." _

"_No, damn it, you don't, and that's what makes this so hard to do." She stood up and began to pace, gesturing with one hand while she rubbed her forehead with the other. "I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too, but I feel constantly off-balance and conflicted. I have to focus all I have on being the captain of this ship, and our relationship has been a distraction that undermines my effectiveness." _

"_We would be better off we stopped trying to conceal our relationship from the crew." _

_She stopped and faced him, her hands on her hips. "We would be better off we just stopped trying—while we can still salvage our friendship." _

"_I'm asking you not to do this, Kathryn." _

"_I'm asking you to let me do it." He could hear the sorrow in her voice as she whispered, "Please." _

"_If we break up, there can be no strings attached," he warned her, barely hanging onto his composure. "No promises to wait for the other. No demands or expectations about the future." _

"_That's only fair." She nodded, tears glittering in her eyes. "I understand that it has to be that way." _

_He wilted, his anger giving way to despair. "You're willing to risk it all? Everything we have? Or could have?" _

"_We can't always have what we want," she repeated, looking away. "But, I would hope that you'd still be my friend. I … I need that." _

_He held his head in his hands, struggling to regain control of his emotions. As much as he resented her ultimatum, as much as her withdrawal angered him, he knew her primary motivation was her duty to the ship. He'd promised to do whatever she needed to lighten her burden of responsibility, never dreaming that his promise would require him to let her go. If this was what she needed him to do, however, then he would do it and forgive her for demanding it of him. _

"_Nothing can ever damage our friendship, Kathryn," he answered, relaxing in his chair as he accepted her decision. He looked up and gave her a sincere smile. "I meant it when I said that I'd do whatever you need me to do to lighten your burden." _

"_Thank you." She studied her hands for a long time, trying to hide her anguish from him, but he saw two tears fall, and he watched as she angrily brushed others from her lashes. He wanted to give her comfort, but her bearing made it clear that physical contact would be unwelcome, and so he suffered with her from a distance. When she finally looked up, she managed a weak smile. "Thanks for the snack, too. That was very thoughtful of you." _

"_You're welcome." He picked up the second half of her sandwich and bit into it. _

_She watched in silence as he finished the sandwich and drained the lemonade from his glass. With each passing moment, he could feel her pulling away from him, erecting the walls of protocol, the barriers of politeness, and the formalities of rank between them. He felt as if she had already left the room, and helpless to stop her, he stacked the dirty dishes and carried them to the recycler. _

_While his back was turned, the door to his quarters opened and closed. The captain left without even saying goodbye. _

Taking a deep breath, Chakotay pushed those bitter memories aside and resumed his work, keeping busy for the next six hours before he decided he'd done enough. Depressed and tired, he headed for his quarters, wondering how long it would take him to force his regrets into the shadows of his mind and fall asleep.

Then, as luck would have it, the turbolift doors opened to reveal a single occupant—Kathryn Janeway.

"Captain." He stepped onto the 'lift. "Deck Three."

"Commander. Calling it a night?"

"Just completed one last tour of the repairs," he said with a nod. "You?"

"I just finished replacing my millionth injector nozzle."

"You must have been working with B'Elanna, then." His laugh was genuine. "Any idea how much longer those injectors will take?"

"Twelve hours, max, I'd say. We should be on our way by this time tomorrow."

"That's good news." The doors opened on deck three, and they started down the passageway together. "I heard a new nickname for you today, Captain, and I think it's perfect."

"Uh-oh." She rolled her eyes. "Can it be mentioned in polite company?"

"All-the-way Janeway."

"I don't get it."

"You never do anything halfway." She stopped in her tracks, and he turned to smile at her, to soften the sting that the use of that term would inflict. "With you, it's all or nothing."

For the first time in months, he saw regret and sorrow in her eyes, and he knew that she remembered that night when she'd used the same words while ending their affair. She was still bothered by the memory, still regretted their breakup, and, for some reason, that fact made him feel better.

"I think they have me nailed," she said at last, studying her hands. "But doing my job 'all the way' depends on your friendship, Chakotay. I can't do it without you."

"I'm right here."

She gave him an affectionate look. "You're still with me?"

"All the way, Janeway," he replied with a straight face.

For a moment, she was too astonished by his reuse of her nickname to react, but then she laughed and threaded her arm through his.

"You make me laugh, and I need that." She squeezed his arm, as if she wasn't sure about her next words, but then she smiled and said quietly, "I need you, Chakotay."

"I hope you never stop needing me, Kathryn."

They stood in silence for a long moment, basking in comfort and warmth of their friendship, and then they turned and walked slowly, arm-in-arm, the rest of the way to her quarters. He relished having her near and placed a hand over hers in gratitude for the rare gesture of affection. Their friendship was a shadow of what they had once shared, and of what they dreamed of sharing again, but they'd found stability and contentment in what remained. It was enough.

Chakotay had just left Janeway at her door and was walking toward his quarters when Ensign Mulcahey and Crewman Jor came striding around the corner, their shift finally over. Chakotay gave them a self-conscious nod as they passed and hoped that they hadn't seen anything that would fuel the rumor mill.

"What do you make of that?" Jor wondered a few moments later, glancing over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. "Chakotay walking the captain to her door?"

"Friendly enough, I'd say."

"Not hardly."

"You don't know, Karel." He called for a turbolift as they stared down the empty passageway. "Maybe we interrupted them just when they were about to profess their undying love."

"Right. And then they went to their separate quarters?" Jor gave his shoulder an affable punch.

He grinned. "Did it ever occur to you that Janeway's motivation to get home as quickly as possible might be because she wants him back?"

"I hope you're right, Todd," Jor laughed as she gave him a suggestive wink. "All-the-way, Janeway."

The end


	2. All the Way Back

Disclaimer: See part 1.

A/N: I just couldn't get the conclusion of "All the Way" out of my mind, so I decided they needed to go "All the way back," as well. A continuation of the story "All the Way," this is post Endgame. J/C

**All the Way Back**

By mizvoy

The first message arrived on Kathryn Janeway's console at 1400 hours, just minutes after the Maquis had been pardoned and released from duty. She didn't hear the chime when the message arrived, because she was on the other side of the compound, celebrating with the former freedom fighters, congratulating them on their exoneration, and thanking them for their loyalty and service over the last seven years.

Nearly an hour later, when she returned to her office, she found the red flashing light on her console and checked her messages, focusing on one that seemed unusual.

From Chakotay and text only, the message read: "Midnight tonight. On Voyager. My quarters."

"That's odd," she muttered. She spent a few minutes attempting to trace the message's source and verify the time it had been forwarded to her. When her efforts failed, she decided that the engineers at Utopia Planetia who were gradually disassembling Voyager had probably dislodged an old, undelivered message that had become lost in the ship's computer. "What else could it be?"

Chakotay couldn't have sent it--she knew that. It had arrived at 1400 hours, when Chakotay and the rest of the Maquis were still inside the justice center, so there had to be some logical explanation for its odd appearance on her screen. With a shrug, she put the mysterious message out of her mind and focused on the work that she needed to take care of before the end of the day.

She had a mountain of reports to finalize on Voyager's upgrades, on the hundreds of first contacts she'd made, and on the reasoning behind her more problematic decisions. Then there were over a hundred crew evaluations to complete, plus recommendations for new postings for the members of the Starfleet crew.

In addition to her "official" duties, there were the more problematic private ones: answers to countless messages from the family members of deceased crew; from her own relatives, friends, and colleagues; and from innumerable well-wishers that ranged from distinguished diplomats to youngsters caught up in the romantic notion of Voyager's predicament and miraculous return.

What made the work seem insurmountable was the fact that she had to do all of it without the help she usually received from her first officer and the Maquis members of her senior staff. She was just beginning to grasp the magnitude of that calamity.

Starfleet had refused to recognize the Maquis as "real" members of her crew from the first, removing them from the ship as soon as Voyager entered orbit without listening to a word of her protest. She'd limped through the first weeks of the debriefings by believing that their absence would be temporary, a delusion that had been obliterated by the court's release of them today. They would be on the fringes of Voyager's debriefings from this moment on, and she would see them infrequently, if at all.

Her reaction to the pardon was ambivalent, at best. She was glad that they no longer had to worry about possible prosecution for their actions before the Dominion war, but she was also frustrated by the fact that she wouldn't have their input and support as she completed the mountain of work facing her. It was more than the workload, though. She was going to miss them terribly, especially the ones who had been on her senior staff. They had become as dear to her as members of her family.

She wondered what Chakotay and the rest of them were doing on their first real day of freedom. Had they gone somewhere together? Was there a wild celebration underway? Were they relieved to have their long trek behind them? Were they as sad as she was that their collaboration was over?

Janeway blinked back tears and put aside her self-pity. There was work to accomplish, and she was determined to get as much done as possible before the weekend arrived. For the next forty minutes, she focused on her work, oblivious to the passage of time, when the chime of an arriving personal message caught her attention. She turned in her chair and looked at the computer screen.

From Chakotay, text only, the message read: "Midnight tonight. On Voyager. My quarters."

"Strange." She made another futile attempt to find out when the message had been written and what its source had been. All she could verify was that it was not a repeat of the earlier message, even though the text was identical. It was a new message.

She established contact with the shipyards at Utopia Planetia and spoke to the engineer in charge of Voyager's dissection.

"I'm sorry, Captain. We have been fiddling with the main computer core today. Perhaps we did shake loose a lost message or two. I don't have time to look into it today, because we were about to shut things down for the weekend."

"Don't worry about it," she assured him. "I was just curious."

The communications link ended when she noticed something strange about the message. She said to herself, "If this was a lost message from the past, why did he say to meet him on Voyager? Where else would I have met him?"

She glanced at the time the message had arrived—1500 hours, exactly sixty minutes after the first one, and her curiosity grew.

The work she'd been doing seemed dull and unimportant now that her concentration had been broken, and so she decided to take a break, stretch her legs, and get a cup of coffee at the cafeteria on the building's ground floor. Stopping to let her assistant know where she'd be, Janeway looked up to discover Seven of Nine striding toward her office.

"Seven, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be celebrating the Maquis' liberation."

"You were incorrect." Seven paused, unsure of what to say next. "Were you leaving your office? I was hoping to talk to you."

"I was going to take a walk and find some unreplicated coffee. I'd appreciate some company."

"I will go with you."

In the weeks since Voyager's return, Seven had reverted to an earlier, more formal and insecure version of herself. Janeway hadn't been surprised by the retreat and expected it to be short-lived, but she couldn't help but smile at the amazed look on her assistant's face.

"We'll be back soon," she told her as she led the drone down the hallway.

They chatted about inconsequential things as they walked—the speed with which the Maquis had been exonerated, the current condition of Voyager's deconstruction, the temporary, and barely satisfactory arrangements that had been made for Seven's regeneration needs. Seven took a seat near the windows while Janeway procured a large mug of coffee.

"Are you sure you don't want something?" she asked as she took a seat at the table. "Some tea or fruit juice?"

"I don't require refreshment at this time," Seven answered, hesitating as she remembered her manners. "Thank you, anyway."

"You're welcome." Janeway frowned at the woman's obvious discomfort. She'd hoped they'd put that uneasiness behind them for good after four years. "How are you doing, Seven? You seem troubled."

"I am attempting to adjust to the many changes that have happened since our return."

"We all are." She studied the young woman, detecting a crack in the Borg's façade. "But you said you're 'attempting' to adjust. Are you having problems?"

"I'm finding the adjustment more difficult than I expected it to be, and, as you know, I expected it to be quite difficult."

"How can I help?"

To Janeway's complete shock, Seven's eyes filled with tears. "I knew you would ask that," she whispered, picking up a napkin and dabbing at her eyes. "You have always been so patient with me."

The sight of the usually reserved, even stoic former drone in tears rattled Janeway to the core, and she silently reprimanded the EMH once again for tampering with the drone's emotional dampener at the worst possible moment. Reaching across the table, she put a comforting hand on Seven's arm and said, "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel at home here."

"You didn't feel at home on Voyager, at first, remember? You are still recovering from a terrible violation of your humanity."

"That was four years ago, Captain."

"I thought you understood that your recovery would take time and that there will be set-backs along the way."

"Yes, but now I fear I will never fully recover my humanity, that I will always be a misfit."

Janeway sighed and sat back in her chair to think about what she could say to comfort her protégé. She couldn't lie to her and say that she would fully recover, because it was becoming more obvious that there would be certain aspects of her assimilation that would never disappear. And yet, she didn't want to add to the former drone's depression and pessimism by discouraging her, either.

"Seven, you are not a misfit, you're unique. In time, you'll understand that your differences are blessings, not hindrances, to your value here—just as they were on Voyager."

"Perhaps, in time."

Janeway gazed out the window at the cold February weather, remembering how reserved Seven had been at the Maquis hearing, how she had stood apart rather than participating actively. "As I said earlier, I thought you'd be celebrating with the Maquis."

Seven arched an eyebrow. "I was present at the announcement of their release, as were you. Should I have done more than that to display my support?"

"No, of course not, I just assumed that they would move the party elsewhere and that you would accompany them."

"You didn't accompany them," she replied, looking confused.

"I wasn't invited."

"Neither was I."

Janeway's eyes widened in surprise. "I don't understand."

"I was never particularly close to the crew."

"I thought … that you and the commander … that you'd be with him." Janeway hated that she sounded so unsure of herself and took a deep breath. "Aren't you two dating?"

"We had five dates while the ship was still in the Delta Quadrant, but our precipitous return necessitated a reassessment of that relationship."

Janeway nodded and tried not to stare at the woman in disbelief. "Frankly, I'm surprised."

"The arrival of the admiral made me realize that our possible return to the Alpha Quadrant would involve the dissolution of the crew and require another difficult adjustment to a new environment."

Janeway nodded. "I know that you always worried about how you would be received if we returned to the Federation."

"I tried to terminate the relationship before we entered the transwarp hub, but Chakotay insisted that we remain within transporter range of each other, to use his terms." She paused a moment, and then said, "I'm relieved to say that he has since changed his mind. What made sense to me as a likely pairing on Voyager seems unfeasible on Earth."

"And so you aren't together."

"No. I'm surprised that you were aware of our brief connection. Did the commander inform you of it?"

"No, I learned it from someone else."

"Icheb? Naomi? Perhaps Neelix?"

"It doesn't matter," Janeway replied with a wave of her hand, not wanting to mention the admiral's name. "You can trust me to protect your privacy, and the other party, as well."

"Tuvok, then." Seven decided and pursed her lips. "Not that it matters."

Janeway hid behind her coffee mug and let the drone believe that the Vulcan had detected their relationship and reported it to the captain.

"I thought that the commander might be able to help you adjust to Earth, that's all."

"I'm afraid not."

"Then, let me help you. What do you need?"

"Someone to listen to me and provide advice. Someone I can trust."

The captain smiled. "You can trust me."

They talked a few minutes more, and then Seven announced that she was expected to spend a week or so with her relative in Florida. "My aunt Inga spends the winter there and has invited me to stay for awhile. The doctor has fashioned a portable regeneration unit for me to use while I'm there."

"That sounds wonderful, Seven. Florida is nice this time of year."

"I will keep you posted about my location."

"Please do. And feel free to contact me if you need to talk."

"Thank you, Captain, I will." She stood up to leave.

"Call me Kathryn, won't you? We aren't on the ship anymore."

"Kathryn," the former drone pronounced, sounding out the name carefully. "It seems strange to say your name when I have only heard the commander use it."

They said their goodbyes, and Janeway watched as Seven sailed through the cafeteria, oblivious to the stares her statuesque build and blonde beauty received. Once the young woman disappeared, Janeway sat back down to think about what she'd just heard.

When Admiral Janeway had informed her of Seven and Chakotay's marriage in her time line, Janeway had resigned herself to the inevitability of the pairing, not letting herself consider the possibility of them breaking up. Now that it had happened, however, a panoply of alternative futures unfolded before her, most of them fueled by long-repressed memories of the doomed affair that had started on New Earth and ended just over a year later.

Shaking her head to chase the daydreams away, she made her way back to her office where her assistant was preparing to leave for the day.

"Unless you need me, Captain, I thought I'd beat the five o'clock rush at the transport station."

"That's fine. I'll be leaving soon, too."

Relieved to have a few quiet hours to work, Janeway sat down at her desk just as a personal message chime sounded, exactly at 1700 hours. She held her breath as she opened her messages and was not surprised to find that it was from Chakotay, text only, "Midnight tonight. On Voyager. My quarters."

A quick check showed that the same message had arrived at 1600, as well, while she and Seven had been talking at the cafeteria.

"What's going on here?" she wondered aloud. "This can't be some 'lost' message from Voyager's computer core."

She frowned and then decided to take action.

"Computer, open a link to Commander Chakotay."

The computer replied, "There is no Starfleet access for a Commander Chakotay."

"That was fast," she muttered, shaking her head. He'd been released from Starfleet just a few hours earlier and had already been deleted from the roles. "Scan civilian contacts for Chakotay and open a link."

"Access for a civilian named Chakotay is not available in current records."

Janeway growled in frustration and spent the next several minutes trying without success to find contact information for any of the Maquis crewmembers. She finally realized that they were no longer active on Starfleet's roles and had not had time to establish civilian contact files, and so she gave up and went back to work, trying to put aside the mystery of the hourly messages.

She picked up a report and started reading, but paused every few minutes to check the time. At 1758, she laid down the PADD and turned to watch her view screen. Sure enough, precisely at 1800, the personal message chime sounded. She tapped a key.

From Chakotay, text only, "Midnight tonight. On Voyager. My quarters."

Now, her curiosity was bubbling, and she actually considered taking the next shuttle to Mars to follow up on this mysterious message. If she left on the 1900 shuttle, she'd have plenty of time to board Voyager by midnight.

"What a complete waste of time that would be," she laughed, imagining herself walking down the echoing passageways of her ship to an empty set of quarters, since the Maquis had cleaned out their things the day before.

Midnight at Chakotay's quarters. She smiled at the memory of their first few months after New Earth, when they'd tried to keep their star-crossed affair alive. Oh, how she'd lived for those infrequent trysts, how she'd looked forward to having him in her arms and making love to him in the quiet of night watch. How quickly those stolen hours passed and how essential they'd been to her mental health and well-being as she adjusted to her return to duty as Voyager's captain.

Her eyes filled with tears. She tried hard to repress the memory of those days, and especially of the days and nights of paradise that they'd shared on New Earth. They were precious moments, but the pain of losing Chakotay had never really diminished with time and still reminded her of the high price her duty had demanded of her. Now, today, he was truly gone, released from Starfleet, and free to pursue whatever job, whatever location, or whatever woman, for that matter, that caught his fancy.

Overwhelmed with loneliness and regret, Janeway crossed her arms on her desk and buried her face in them, letting the sleeves of her uniform absorb the hot tears that spilled from her eyes. She was relieved that her assistant was gone, that she wouldn't hear a Starfleet captain sobbing over an affair that had ended badly more than three years earlier.

Once the storm of tears passed, Janeway sat at her desk for a long time and stared out the window before she got up to wash her face and repair her makeup. She was too emotionally drained to get much work accomplished, and so she methodically closed the open files on her computer and tidied up her desk, taking her time to leave things clean so that she could start the next week without leftover clutter from the week before.

She put on her jacket and turned out the lights, trying to decide whether she should stop and eat dinner at a local restaurant or just replicate some soup once she arrived at her quarters. Then she noticed that it was nearly 1900 hours. She stood at the door, waiting to hear if another message arrived, and turned in amazement when the computer chimed again on the hour. She returned to her desk and pulled up her messages.

Chakotay. "Midnight tonight. On Voyager. My quarters."

"Oh, hell, why not go out there?" she muttered, checking the shuttle schedule to Utopia Planetia. She'd missed the one at 1900, but reserved a seat on the next one at 2000 and notified the dock master of her intention to visit her ship upon her arrival. She wondered whether the individual in charge would think she was insane, because she felt a bit out of control. "I'll think of a reason for visiting the ship on the way out there."

She found the wait for the flight interminable, even though she spent some of the time at the snack bar having yet another cup of coffee and a salad for dinner. Afterward, she found herself pacing and nearly changed her mind a dozen times, only to remind herself that the next day was Saturday—her day off. She could sleep in her own bed and, since there would be no work done on the ship over the weekend, stay in her quarters all day without being disturbed. Suddenly, she was anxious to be on her ship, no matter whether she solved the mystery of the recurring messages in the process.

Once the flight was underway, Janeway accessed her mail, on a whim, and found another identical message had arrived at 2000 hours. She wondered if it might be a prank devised by Tom Paris to embarrass her—or perhaps a surreptitious get-together they'd planned to celebrate the Maquis' pardon. But, if they'd all been released from Starfleet, how would they gain access to the ship?

She shut down her PADD and tried to doze, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the bulkhead for the duration of the three-hour trip. She felt sure that she could get from the spaceport to her ship in the hour between their arrival and midnight.

She was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Captain," the transporter chief apologized. "I could transport you to most ships in dry dock, but not Voyager. Its classified upgrades mean that it has a dampening field set up to prevent unauthorized access. You'll have to be shuttled out there."

"Damn. I forgot about the dampening field. How do I get a shuttle?"

"At this hour, ma'am, our pilots are off duty for the night."

She made a face and then said, "I don't need a pilot, Chief. I can fly a shuttle all by myself."

"Yes, ma'am. Since you're still in command of the ship, you might be able to take a shuttle out there."

"How do I go about it?" She blushed. "I've come this far on a whim. I might as well go all the way."

"Yes, ma'am."

He reminded her of the location of the shuttle complex, and she hurried there as quickly as possible. Time was passing and her deadline of midnight was quickly approaching. The chief in charge of the shuttle bay was not immediately receptive to the idea, however.

"Why do you need to shuttle out to your ship?" she wondered. "Environmental controls are shut down. It's barely habitable."

Janeway found herself at a loss for words, her mind sorting through a number of excuses and tossing them aside before she blurted, "I just miss my ship, Chief, and I have to check on her."

The woman actually smiled. "You know, that's probably the only reason that I'd find acceptable. You wouldn't believe how many captains visit their ships like this—as if they think of their ship as a living being."

"They're alive to their captains, I suppose." She blushed again. "I haven't seen Voyager in over a month, and I just have to spend some time with her before she's taken away from me for good."

"Just so you have the shuttle back first thing in the morning." She took Janeway's thumbprint for verification. "The skeleton crew on the dry dock itself has been informed of your intention to visit the ship. Your command codes are still active, so the automated shuttle landing program will respond when you contact the ship."

"Thank you, Chief. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

Ten minutes later, Janeway settled into the pilot's seat of a tiny type-fifteen shuttlepod and forced herself to go through the pre-flight checklist, even though she was only taking a ten-minute trip to Voyager. The chief had already approved her departure, so she was quickly on her way toward her beautiful ship which was trapped in the claw of the Starfleet dry dock.

While en route, she accessed her messages again, confirming that the same cryptic message had arrived every hour on the hour since early that afternoon. She was anxious to find out what the message meant.

Voyager responded at once to her command codes. The lights in the shuttle bay flashed on as the huge doors slid open, the usual arrows on the floor guiding her into the empty and echoing shuttle bay. She hurried through the shut-down sequence and stepped out of the shuttle into the icy cold air of the ship.

"Computer, activate turbolift for access to deck three and bring environmental controls to normal for the captain's quarters and the first officer's quarters."

"Acknowledged," answered the familiar computer voice.

It was 2350, leaving her just about ten minutes to get from the main shuttle bay on deck ten to officer's quarters on deck three. She boarded the turbolift, taking in the familiar feel of her ship and discovering that she missed it almost as much as she missed the crew.

Starfleet was focusing their study on the upgrades in engineering, shielding, and tactical, which meant that the other areas of the ship remained largely untouched. While the Maquis and the Equinox five, as they were called, had cleaned out their quarters, the Starfleet crew had yet to return for a final visit. Most of Janeway's belongings were still in her quarters and the Ready Room, so she would feel right at home if she decided to spend the night.

Out of curiosity, she queried the computer about the number of individuals on Voyager, to which the computer replied, "There is one human on board."

"Then what am I doing here?" she mumbled to herself as the turbolift opened on deck three. She walked down the passageway of the part of the ship that had served as her "home" for seven years and was struck with a wave of nostalgia. She wondered how many times she had hurried down this corridor in response to a red alert or strolled back to her quarters after averting yet another disaster. How often had Chakotay walked beside her, his calm, generous nature giving her just the right amount of support and reassurance?

Janeway walked slowly, her mind going over countless memories, and she realized that she was glad that she'd come to the ship, even if the trip turned out to be a wild goose chase, glad to have Voyager to herself for a last, poignant farewell. She arrived at the door to her quarters and hesitated, thinking that she might as well forego the last few steps, let herself into her rooms, and crawl into bed. She'd had a long, stressful day and was suddenly exhausted.

The PADD in her hand vibrated with the arrival of another personal message, but this one was early, at 2358. She looked down at it and saw that it, too, was from Chakotay:  
"_My_ quarters, Kathryn. At midnight."

She felt her heart skip a beat. Could it be possible? Could Chakotay actually be waiting for her in his quarters? She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and walked the rest of the way to his door, pausing at the entry with her hand hovering over the chime. Before she could sound it, the doors swished open revealing a totally dark room—all of the lights off and the windows blacked out.

"Computer, ambient lighting," she ordered as she stepped over the threshold. When the lights revealed a familiar figure sitting at the dining table, she stopped in surprise. "Chakotay!"

"Kathryn."

"You . . . you can't be here."

He smiled, putting his devastating dimples on full display. "All evidence to the contrary."

"The computer said there was only one human on the ship."

He shrugged. "The computer and I are old friends from way back, and it owed me a favor."

"But there was no other shuttle in the shuttle bay, and the dampening field prevents anyone from beaming onto the ship."

"Yet I got around it." He gave her a level look. "Do you want to know how I did it?"

She frowned for a moment and shook her head. "Maybe I'm better off not knowing."

"Let's just say that when I was here earlier in the week, I knew I'd be back at least one more time."

"And that's when you set up the messages I've been receiving."

He shrugged. "Maybe. I wanted to make you curious enough to come out here and check things out."

"Well, I almost didn't come."

"Almost?" He laughed. "I'm sure you had second and third thoughts along the way, but when push came to shove, you had to know."

"I'm that transparent to you."

"I know you well." He gestured at the seat near his. "Won't you sit down?"

She noticed that there was food on the table. "What's all this?"

"I didn't think you'd leave yourself much time to eat, so I replicated some sandwiches and lemonade. Help yourself."

She pulled out the chair around the corner to his right and sat down, their knees almost touching under the table. "I thought you'd be celebrating your freedom with the rest of the Maquis."

"We didn't have time to organize a proper party. I think Tom and Chell are working on a get-together for Sunday. I'm sure you'll be invited, if you're interested."

"Of course, I'm interested." She studied the plate of sandwiches. "Are those egg salad sandwiches?"

"And lemonade." He filled their glasses. "It's way too late for coffee."

She looked up in surprise, wondering if he remembered serving her the same food during another late-night meeting years earlier, the night that she'd ended their affair. She could feel her heart pounding at the memory of that sad event.

Oblivious to her distress, Chakotay kept talking. "You left in such a rush after the briefing today, I had to wonder what was wrong. I thought you would stay around to congratulate us."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I have so much to do."

"Still being the captain twenty-four/seven?"

She blushed and reached for a sandwich. "I guess I need to work on that particular bad habit."

"We all have to rethink our choices."

She swallowed hard, nearly choking, and took a long drink from her glass. "I'm not sure there are that many choices to be made. I'm still burdened with the onerous task of ending a mission and breaking up a crew."

"I wish I could help you."

"So do I." She gave him a weak smile and then studied the contents of the sandwich. "Strange that I never have egg salad unless you fix it for me. I've missed it."

"Choice number one: more egg salad." He gave her a wink as he bit into his own sandwich.

She laughed and took another bite, chewing it slowly. "I should have had something to eat on the way out here, but I waited so late to start that I didn't have time for anything but a salad."

"You came out of curiosity, right?"

"I suppose so. At first, I thought the message was a malfunction of Voyager's computer, but then the message kept repeating every hour, on the hour." She tore the crust from the remainder of her sandwich. "And then, it was from you."

"I would have been terribly disappointed if you hadn't come," he admitted. "And lonely."

"Unless you were taken into custody for trespassing."

"It was worth the risk."

"The real question is why you didn't just come right out and ask me to meet you here."

"Because you wouldn't have agreed to meet me out here, Kathryn. You would have insisted that we meet in your office or your quarters, someplace neutral, someplace unfamiliar." He put down what was left of his sandwich and leaned toward her. "Voyager is what brought us together all those years ago, so it's only right that we meet here when we are facing a permanent separation."

"Not permanent," she shook her head. "We can stay friends, even if we aren't serving together in Starfleet."

"Choice number two: stay friends." He watched her finish the first half of the sandwich before he added, "We made that same choice right here in this room three years ago. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember." She gazed at the other half of her sandwich. "You finished my sandwich that night."

"You weren't going to eat it. You were too anxious to break up with me and fly away." He grinned.

"I'm grateful that you let me go."

"I decided that the important thing was to help you carry out your duty to the ship and to the crew, to put aside my personal wishes and dreams. It was a major turning point in my life, Kathryn, and I can't say that I regret it. I can say that I wish that circumstances hadn't forced me to make that choice."

"Oh, I understand that feeling." Janeway began to tear the crust off of the rest of her sandwich, her eyes unfocused. "Ironic, isn't it? To be able to point to a certain moment and say, 'This is where the direction of my life changed--while I was eating an egg salad sandwich.'"

He chuckled. "I suppose we could go back in time, like your counterpart from the future, and change our decision, if we wanted."

"But that decision wasn't a mistake, Chakotay, and you know it. We barely managed to salvage our friendship and maintain our working relationship, even after we stopped seeing each other."

"Okay. We don't change the past." He leaned forward again, and their eyes locked. "But we could change the future."

Janeway caught her breath. "After all we've been through, is there enough left to build on?"

"I'd like to think so. Unlike the last time we were here, our choice depends solely on our own wants and needs." He watched her push the rest of her sandwich aside as she considered his words. "In your heart of hearts, has anything between us really changed?"

She looked up at him with a heart so full that she found it difficult to breathe. "I suppose not."

"And if you could have anything you wanted, anything, what would it be, Kathryn?"

"I want peace. And contentment. And . . . well, it seems so absurd."

"What's absurd?"

"To wish for something I pushed away."

"Does that something involve me?" At the sight of her blush, he continued, "You came out here because the messages were from me. Weren't you hoping to find me here, waiting for you to appear?"

"I don't know what I hoped for, Chakotay. I've worked too hard to leave my hopes unacknowledged and to live with whatever I have left."

"I guess I understand that. We both had to accept certain limits if we hoped to keep our sanity. However, as of this afternoon, we don't have to balance our personal and professional lives anymore." He reached across the table and took her hand. "We can choose to be more than friends."

"I thought it was too late," she whispered. "I thought you'd moved on."

"Oh, I tried to move on," he admitted, aware of the fact that the admiral had informed her of his recent decision to start dating Seven of Nine. "I picked the worst possible moment to do that, and I hope Seven of Nine understands that our successful return changed everything."

"I talked to her earlier today, and she didn't seem upset with you."

"Good. I'm relieved to hear it." He smiled and looked away, embarrassed. "Once we were home and I realized that you and I could rethink our choices . . . well, I knew that I didn't want to move on, after all."

"So you recreated this moment," she looked around the room and at their unfinished meal, "this pivotal juncture in our lives, as an effort to bring us full circle?"

His smile widened. "More or less."

"I forget what a romantic you are." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Or, more accurately, I've refused to remember how romantic you can be."

"We've repressed too many memories during the last few years, don't you think? But now that I'm not your first officer, we're free to remember everything." He lifted her hand and kissed her palm, his warm breath sending a blaze of fire up her arm.

"Chakotay." She took a shaky breath and pulled her hand away. "How could this happen so fast? Your first message arrived just minutes after the hearing ended."

He leaned back in the chair with a wicked grin. "Let's just say that I made some plans when I 'cleaned out' my quarters."

"So this is an ambush?"

"Oh, yes, and you walked right into it," he said, giving her a wink.

"You'd think maybe I wanted to be ambushed, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, Kathryn, I hope so."

Janeway shivered and said, "I feel as if I'm the victim of a stalking."

"You are, definitely." He leaned forward and captured her hand again in both of his, caressing her palm and running his fingers up her sleeve. "I've been stalking you for years, Kathryn, waiting for the moment when I could approach you again."

"Even after all our problems?"

"What problems?"

"You know what problems. I relieved you from duty once, remember? We had some spectacular disagreements. There were a lot of things I did out there that I regret."

"I'd say we've both done things that we probably wish we hadn't done. What we need to do is focus on the good things and let the bad things fade away."

"I like that idea." His hands were warm as they caressed hers, and she remembered how many times he'd shared his warmth with her, both spiritually and physically. The thought of those times made her pulse jump. "What good things did you have in mind?"

"A gradual return to what we shared on New Earth and just after."

"Gradual?" Her eyes were luminous with tears.

"I want to continue to lighten your burdens—but not as your first officer. I want to enrich your life and make you anxious to come home at the end of the day. I'm thinking of nightly dinners together, daily comfort for the pressure of your career, frequent nights—"

"Yes." She leaned forward and cupped his cheek with her right hand, brushing her thumb across his lips as she studied his face. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

"I'd hoped so."

"But to hell with the 'gradual' part."

His smile nearly blinded her. "I forgot that I was dealing with all-the-way Janeway."

"That's exactly what I want, Chakotay. With you, I want to go all the way."

He stood up and pulled her toward the bedroom. "Time's awastin'."

The end


End file.
